The End
by TheAddict4Dramatics
Summary: He could feel the words escaping from the pit of his stomach, racing up past his lungs and heart, up his windpipe, at the back of his throat, tasting vile on his tongue and out, out in a croaked whisper: "I love you, do you know that?" Gene/Alex angst.


First fanfic attempt, scared! Basically my idea of what could happen between Gene and Alex in the final episode so spoilers up until then. Will probably end up being totally AU after tonight – for which I cannot wait!

No copyright etc.

Reviews would be nice as I said this is my first go at this.

**The End**

Keats turned and strolled confidently out of CID leaving Alex and Gene in stunned silence. Alex slowly rotated toward Gene, her watery hazel eyes instantly locking with the steel blue of his.

Keats words hung in the air, engulfing the purity of oxygen like hairspray or deodorant does after you've sprayed them. It's venom a cloud chocking the clean, contaminating it.

"_How many times has he said you're not going anywhere until he decides." There had been a crazy look in Jim's eyes, unpredictable, unhinged. It scared Alex. "It's all literal. Everything is significant, Alex!"_

She was trembling so much she was sure Gene must be able to see. Yet she kept eye contact, not blinking, making her sight even more watery. His intense, sometimes cold gaze was familiar, it was comfortable. It was home. She clung to it. Even as Keats words rang in his ears.

"_One shot. One shot and you're home."_

"Well that made 'bout as much sense as the existence of Duran Duran!"

Gene's surprisingly calm voice snapped Alex out of her trance. Although still looking at Gene she must have stopped seeing, she didn't realise Gene had moved into his office, well the tip of broken glass, smashed possessions and scattered paper that now was Gene's office and most of CID, for that matter. Not even the scenery had got away unscathed in the war just witnessed.

Gene poured himself a large whiskey from the bottle left on his desk, the only untouched item. He downed it in one.

"If it's possible I think I understood less of that that wot I do to most of ya deranged musing or psychiatry bollocks."

She flinched but didn't correct him. Instead she cleared her throat – it didn't work, her voice still cracked as it uttered her reply:

"He wants me... wants me to kill you."

"Yeah. I believe that woz the general jist."

Alex dared a glance at the gun left behind by Keats. Subtle.

"_Have you ever stared at something so long that everything else goes black?"_

She moved into Gene's office, grabbing and swigging heavily from the whiskey bottle. Gene smirked. How could he remain so calm? Did he not understand what had just happened? Did she understand, come to think of it.

She slumped down on his desk. Defeated. The tears finally fell.

"Don't cry, Bolls." His voice was uncharacteristically soft.

"I'm so tired of playing this game!" She cried. "They win, whoever is controlling this, they win. I'm done! I can't fight anymore!" Her tears were unfaltering now and she gasped for ragged breaths. "Why me? What did I do that was so..." She stopped to catch her breath. "Why me?"

"'Cause ya an impossible, self-righteous, tarty, big gobbed... bloody gorgeous toff of a woman!"

Alex smiled. There was something there, behind the stormy gaze. An indescribable emotion she couldn't put her finger on. But she'd seen it before, only once or twice, when one the team were in real trouble. It was fear, she realised.

All of a sudden there was talking, it took a moment to realise it was her.

"I'm sorry."

Gene stood rooted to the spot. There is was, the thing that would break him, the thing she never said. God how much did he want go to her. He was always uncomfortable when women cried but when she did it physically pained him. He needed it to stop, for his benefit not hers.

But he couldn't comfort her. He understood now what needed to be done and touching her, feeling her, the warmth tingling that happened when she was close, that would be too much.

Sweet Jesus, what had she made him?

"Keats he..." Alex ran an agitated hand through her hair. "I should never have listened. He said things; he seemed to understand but..."

"Not your fault Bolly. Can't 'elp that ya a thing for soft, southern, nancy basta'ds!"

"No..."

"Thatcherite wanker."

She may have thought he was being serious, that he was angry if it weren't for the mischievous glint in his eye and the firm pout turned into a flirty smirk.

It felt good. When he looked at her like that, like she was the only thing important in the world.

And then she was speaking again. The words bubbling in her stomach for the past two and a half years finally made it to the top. She couldn't help it.

"I've got a thing for you."

Alex thought he might laugh or come back with some witty retort along the lines of 'I knew it'. But he didn't. He remained deadly still, unchanging expression.

"Is that why ya ran out on me the other night?" His tone wasn't accusing. "'Ave to say when you told me to wait in ya bedroom, coming owt to find an empty flat weren't one the scenarios I'd been 'finking. And trust me I 'ad a few." To which she laughed quietly whilst still crying.

"I'll make it up to you."

"Is that a promise?" He asked with a lopsided grin, Alex nodded.

Silence surrounded them once more. Gene was almost sure he could hear her thinking. The cogs in her brain working serious overtime. She might self combust in a minute, he quietly mused.

Alex took another shaky gulp from the bottle. How did she manage to look so goddamned sexy even now. Even now with rumpled hair, half her make-up running down her cheeks, the other half already been wiped away, shaking like virgin in a brothel, yet still he wanted her. She looked like she'd just been given a good seeing to. Gene mentally slapped himself – let's not go there now!

"How could I have been so wrong?" Alex whispered.

Gene stilled remained a statue. She wished he'd shout, scream, hit her even, just react. The silence was killing her.

"You don't kill DI's, you save them. You saved me... You're always saving me."

He moved suddenly, like a toy that had just been switched on and wound up at the back. Alex thought he was leaving, she didn't blame him. Gene got to her desk, picked up the gun and headed back to the office.

Alex could only watch in horror as he shoved the gun into her hand, purposely wrapping her fingers around the handle to she wouldn't drop it.

"What are you doing?"

"Saving you." Gene answered without a moment's hesitation.

She knew what he meant in an instant. It hit her like a tidal wave. She physically stumbled as she stood from the desk. Her stomach flipped over, her insides churned, for a moment she thought she might actually throw up; she could taste bile rising in her throat.

"What?" Her voice did nothing to cover the confusion and shock. She wasn't trying to. "What are you talking about? I'm not going to shoot you Gene!"

"We'd 'bout even. One all."

"Don't!" She shouted. "Stop being ridiculous! Don't even joke..."

He sprang forward. The toy had been wound up again. Gene pinned her to the glass, smacking her so hard against it she yelped in pain. His towering frame trapped her, gripping her arms by her sides. He looked wild.

For the first time she was scared of Gene Hunt.

"Joking. You think I'm joking?"

His face was so close she could feel the warmth of his breath, smell the whiskey and cigarettes. Once again the familiarity was comforting. He comforted and intimidated her at the exact same moment.

"You asked me if ya meant nothin' to me, well I'm here." His voice was menacing, she began to sob. "I'm here. Don't you know..."

Gene's voice cracked. He bowed his head in an attempt to slow his breathing. He hated this, showing his emotions. It was weak. Yet they were past this now, after everything they had been through, everything she now knew. She already had everything else; why not give her this too.

"You're everything."

There it was. Never coming back.

Alex gently nudged his cheek with her nose, trying to get him to look at her. Her arms were still clamped like a vice by her sides. He wouldn't move.

"You don't have to prove it to me."

He was gripping her so hard it was almost painful.

"Gene..." Alex tried again. "I'm not going to kill you."

Finally Gene look at her face, she wished he hadn't. He looked tortured.

"Not even to see your daughter again?"

"You don't know that I will. It's Keats! Probably just a last attempt to come between us."

"'Cause the others have been so unsuccessful."

He regretted it as soon as he'd said it, as soon as the hurt flashed behind her eyes and she glanced away. It was then that he saw it.

Frowning deeply he pulled her towards him, bringing her face into the light. He was staring at her lips, Alex realised he had noticed her spilt lip. His gaze was so heavy she could feel it on her skin. The obvious question burnt beneath his irises. She didn't have to answer verbally. He got it one. Keats.

The contents of Gene's stomach turned. Only now was he feeling the full force of hate for that man. The power of emotion, the level of primitive need to protect, it scared him. He had dared to touch _his _Bolly. Yet what stung the most was the fact he couldn't judge Keats. Gene had hurt his Bolly, shot a hole in her gut to put her to sleep and slapped her to wake her up again.

He was just the same as a Keats.

Alex watched as Gene's trembling hand ran a soft thumb over her bottom lip, her blood stained his skin.

He gingerly moved her onto the desk, his touch the complete juxtaposition to what it had been a few moments earlier. He now handled her like she was glass afraid she might crack or break it he was too forceful.

The gun was dropped on the desk as it had been blistering Alex's hand. The sound of wood meeting metal echoed through every corner and corridor of the abandoned CID.

As Gene turned to leave, presumably to get some ice, Alex used her now free hand to grab the cuff of his jacket.

"It's fine."

"Ya know I think I might actually like the 21st Century. I could 'ave a hovering Quattro and holiday on the moon." His voice was suddenly lighter again, Alex's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "'Parently time travel is common when good coppers go down. Might end up with you in two thousand and whatever, Bolls."

"And what if you don't? What if you just die?"

"Ya already killing me Alex. Why not make it official, 'ey?"

Alex tugged on his sleeve, bringing him closer. Their foreheads rested against each other. She let out a shuddering breath.

"I mean now ya taken to wearing all of those long top 'fings, I'm not even privileged to see your pert little bum wiggle around in front of meh. 'Ow's a bloke to survive? "

She grinned and slapped his chest lightly before bringing him close again.

"I missed this. You. Us... Missed being your Bolly."

"You always were."

"Things have been different though."

"I know. I put a bullet in your belly Bolls, that's likely to change things a bit. 'Pose can't blame you for 'avin' a couple of trust issues either."

Alex shook her head. She pulled up her shirt to reveal the small circular scar that graced her abdomen. She reached for his hand and placed it on the closed wound. Her breath hitched involuntarily as Gene's touch send a thousand electric shivers through her body. She felt alive.

"I thought I'd hate it." Alex started, putting every effort into keeping her voice even as Gene stroked the blemished skin. "Thought I'd look in the mirror and that's all I'd be able to see, but..." She paused, unsure if how to continue. "But then I... _cherished_ it."

Gene's eyes snapped open; his face was painted in confusion.

"It was the only part of you I had left. My you..."

He cut her off by placing his other hand around her head so their foreheads were touching once more.

"You know, I don't have a bloody clue what ya goin' on 'bout Bolls. 'Ey maybe we are back to normal." He smirked to which Alex could only grin in reply.

"My point is, if you're doing this because you think it will make us even or because you feel guilty, then... just don't. Please..."

He drew away suddenly, taking a couple of steps back and picking up the gun that had been flung on the desk.

"I'm doing this because it means you get to see your daughter again."

"But you don't know..."

"Even if it's not a certainty, even if it's just a possibility. It's worth it 'ey? I would ask 'ow much you wanted to see her again if I didn't already know the answer."

Gene looked down momentarily, trying to regain some composure. God he was shitting himself but he knew he couldn't back out now. Somehow, god knows how, but somehow he just it had to happen this way. It was going to work.

Alex would be convinced.

"I know 'cause I saw the look in your eyes when I doubted your daughter. Here, before Operation Rose and everything... I know 'cause I've seen the same look on ya face for the past three years. Need. You need to get home."

Gene stretched out his hand, offering the gun to her. Alex shook her head as a fresh wave of nausea hit. She was silently sobbing again.

"It's time."

Alex shook her head vigorously, she couldn't speak. Here it was, the choice: Gene or Molly. How could she make that decision? Yet she didn't have to, Gene had made it for here. He'd removed the choice.

Alex stood up slowly and with a wavering hand took the gun. He let out a breath neither of them knew he had been holding: relief.

She cocked the gun. The sound vibrated through her whole body causing her to sway. The gun raised at Gene's head, in-between the eyes.

_One shot and you're home._

They stayed frozen for several moments.

"I can't!" She finally sobbed, dropping the gun to her side.

Alex rushed to him but he held her at arm's length.

"Yes you can."

"No I can't! Could you? Would you if it was the other way round... Don't bother answering because I know you wouldn't."

Alex fell and against him and he finally embraced her. Declining onto the desk he brought her with him, she was resting in his lap.

"Shhh..." Gene smoothed her hair and wiped her drowning face as she continued to choke out cries and gasped breaths.

"I can't... I... can't."

Gene remained quiet for a few moments. An inner struggle raged. Everything he was, used to be against everything she had made him.

He could feel the words escaping from the pit of his stomach, racing up past his lungs and heart, up his windpipe, at the back of his throat, tasting vile on his tongue and out, out in a croaked whisper:

"I love you, do you know that?"

Alex froze in shock; he felt her go rigid against him. She moved her head but his face was buried so far into her neck he couldn't tell if she was nodding or shaking her head.

"Then I'll stay."

This time it was Gene that was moving and he was definitely shaking his head.

"You'll end up 'ating me."

And in an instant she knew it was true. She already resented him, subconsciously blamed him for the separation from Molly. He was why she stayed, her constant, the only reason she wanted to continue in this world.

How could she have doubted him, thought him possible of murder?

He was Gene Hunt. Angel.

She almost smirked at the idea.

Alex hadn't even registered that Gene had raised her arm so the gun rested against his temple. His hand rested over hers, fingers entwined of the handle of the gun.

"D."

The inevitable confusion graced Gene's features.

"I'm a D cup. And it opens at the back."

Gene smirked.

"Knew it."

Her lips were soft as they moved against his; he could taste the salt of her tears. She tasted of wine and chocolate even though he was pretty sure she hadn't consumed either in the past forty eight hours. It was everything and nothing like he had imagined.

Alex's finger hovered over the trigger, unable to make the final push. He made it for her.

Gene placed his finger over hers.

An army of stars shone madly above.

Bang.

The world went black.


End file.
